


Morning, Sammy

by WrensAO3



Series: Sleepy!Sam [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Morning After, Weecest, mentions of past non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrensAO3/pseuds/WrensAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By popular request, I wrote a morning-after sequel for the Sleepy!Sam story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning, Sammy

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: As with the prequel, Sam is underage. This story does not contain non-con, but it does reference the non-con (by means of Sam being asleep) in the previous story.

The first sensations that came back to Sam as he drifted out of sleep were a familiar smell and a slightly uncomfortable coolness. Without opening his eyes, he grunted softly and reached for the blankets so he could snuggle under them and go back to sleep. It took him a moment to realize that they weren’t there. Sam rubbed a hand over his eyes and sat up, blinking in the morning light. The blankets were bunched up at the end of the bed, not even covering his feet. Sam had just enough time to wonder if he’d kicked them off in his sleep before noticing that his stomach was sticky.

Years of monster hunting had trained a sense of alarm into Sam whenever unexplained wetness appeared on his body, and his warm haze of sleep was gone in an instant. However, this clearly wasn’t blood, he could tell that much from looking at it. Sam ran his finger tentatively through the mess on his stomach. Thin, wet, milky, a little dried around the edges -

Sam’s hand sprang back.  _Oh. That’s what it is._ Sam’s face heated and he glanced at the door to his room anxiously to make sure it was closed. He really,  _really_ hoped Dean hadn’t come in and tried to wake him up, seen him like this, naked above the sheets and covered in -

No, if Dean had wanted to wake him up, he’d be awake. Sam let out a relieved breath and swung his legs over the bed. Just a wet dream. He’d clean up and get dressed and Dean would be none the wiser. He wished he could remember what it had been about… he could recall was a vague sensation of another body over his, touching him, but nothing specific. From the way his sheets had been kicked to the end of the bed, the dream must have been… intense.

It wasn’t until Sam stood up and stretched that he realized something was amiss that absolutely  _could not_  be explained by a wet dream. A part of himself that he didn’t usually give much thought to felt  _really damn weird._ Reflexively, Sam reached a hand around his body and felt between his legs. His heart shot into his throat when he felt wetness.  _Oh god I’m bleeding down there it’s a witch or a curse or a goddamn haunted tapeworm -_

Sam spent several seconds blinking at his fingers before registering that the fluid on them wasn’t red, and therefore wasn’t blood, and therefore he wasn’t dying. The relief had barely set in when he realized that the wetness on his fingers was the same stuff that had been splattered all over his chest.

Sam took a staggering step back that sent him thumping back onto the mattress. The motion caused his hips to shift and sent that  _weird_ feeling through him again, wet and sensitive and kind of  _good_. He bit his lip to keep from hyperventilating, staring blankly at the milky fluid on his fingers. There was some explanation for this, something perfectly reasonable that he just wasn’t thinking of, something other than  _come dripping out of his ass._ Sam glanced at the bunched up sheets again, his face heating.  _Not kicked off, pulled off. Pulled off so someone could see you and touch you and…_

“F-fuck,” Sam choked out. He stood up and backed away from the bed, running a hand through his hair. His heart was pounding in his chest. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck… ” A memory flashed through his mind, someone’s hands running down the insides of his thighs and spreading them…

No. That couldn’t be right, the house was locked and he was  _safe_ here. Even if someone had broken in, Dean would have heard them. Dean wouldn’t have let some stranger come into Sam’s room and pull the covers off him and do things while he couldn’t even fight back…

Sam ran a hand over his eyes and tried to take deep breaths. He had to tell Dean, Dean would know what to do. Dean always knew what to do.  _Maybe it’s not even that, maybe it’s something else._ He knew it wasn’t something else, though. He didn’t just feel wet down there, he felt…  _loose._ Like something had  _stretched_ him -

Sam snatched his boxers off the floor and wrenched them on.  _Dean. Gotta tell Dean._ His face reddened as he tucked his semi-hard cock into his boxers. In spite of his terror, some part of him was liking this. Memories were trickling back one at a time: hungry lips on his, knuckles trailing down his neck, that familiar smell again… Battling with his fear was a strong sense of arousal, remembering a strong hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it while he was stuffed full of -

“Goddamn it,” Sam panted _._ The boxers weren’t hiding a damn thing. Sam groaned and ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the tent in his underwear. He didn’t want to walk out into the kitchen like this, Dean was probably up by now. With a resigned breath, Sam reached into his boxers and ran a hand over himself, closing his eyes. He’d just take care of it now, it wouldn’t take long, then he could go ask Dean what could be making his ass feel like this because he  _refused_ to believe it was the obvious thing. Sam took a deep breath, trying to relax into the sensations of a hand rubbing up and down his erection. As soon as he breathed in, there was that familiar smell again, warm and close and comforting. Without thinking, Sam crawled back onto his bed and pressed his face into the mattress, breathing deep, trying to find more of that smell. It felt nice to be wrapped in it, felt right. Sam let out a soft moan and bucked his hips forward into his own hand, panting into the mattress. He wished he could place the smell, felt so familiar, like home and sweat, leather and beer and the backseat of the Impala -

_Dean’s voice whispering to him as he slowly pushed inside -_

Sam stopped touching himself with a gasp, his hazel eyes wide, panting into the sheets. The image of Dean remained, Dean crawling into bed with him last night and running hands down his body. No, this wasn’t okay, why the hell was he thinking of his  _brother_? That wasn’t right, that wasn’t right at all, it was bad enough that the thought of being held down and penetrated was making his cock throb, but  _Dean -_  Sam swallowed hard and moaned into the mattress, hips shifting desperately. Once the thought was in his head, he couldn’t get it out. He couldn’t visualize last night as anything other than Dean, pulling the covers off him and spreading his legs…

Sam realized he was humping the mattress and groaning, and stopped himself with a frustrated whine. He couldn’t masturbate to the thought of his brother fucking him - god, just thinking the words felt wrong - and he couldn’t get his mind to focus on  _anything_ else. Sam pressed his face into the mattress to muffle his loud, frustrated groan before sitting up and glaring at his erection. He’d just have to ignore it, and hope it went away on its own.

Sam tried to think about anything else as he wiped the dried come off his stomach and pulled a t-shirt on, but every time he took a step he got that strange sensation between his legs again, loose and slick and  _your brother’s come inside you._ His face was red and his cock was just as hard as ever when he steeled himself and walked out into the kitchen.

Dean was leaning against the kitchen counter when Sam came out, a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.  _Scanning it for jobs, even though Dad’s already out on one._ Sam tried to keep his eyes off his brother’s bare chest and hurried across the kitchen, hoping Dean wouldn’t glance up from his paper and see -

“Morning, Sammy.”

Sam swallowed hard and continued his brisk march to the counter, grabbing a mug and almost spilling the entire pot of coffee as he tried to pour himself some. “Mornin’, Dean,” he replied quickly. He could feel Dean’s eyes on the back of his neck, could almost see the smirk on his brother’s face. Sam’s cheeks heated and he took another shot at pouring himself a cup of coffee, trying to keep his hands steady.

“Sleep well last night?”

Sam gripped his mug hard, even though it was scalding hot. The question seemed innocent enough, but… he couldn’t quite tell if there was an edge of smugness in Dean’s voice. Like he knew perfectly well what Sam’s night had been like. Like he’d been a part of it.  _Oh god what if I didn’t imagine it what if it really happened and he’s thinking about it right now and staring at me and thinking about doing it again oh god I want it -_

Sam tried to steady his breathing, still facing the counter to hide the straining bulge in his boxers. He couldn’t let Dean find out about this. “S-slept fine.”

“Really?” Sam could hear the sound of a mug being placed on the counter. Seconds later if was followed by a newspaper. “Cause you know, you don’t look very rested.”

“I-I said I’m fine.” Still not turning around, Sam took a large gulp of burning black coffee. He could be wrong, he could be reading into all of this way too much, he didn’t know for  _sure_ if anything had happened last night or if his weird, sudden,  _ferocious_ urge to fuck his brother was in any way mutual.

Sam’s heart pounded when he heard Dean’s footsteps crossing the kitchen. When Dean’s hands braced on the counter on either side of him, he forgot how to breathe.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, Sammy?” Sam could feel Dean’s warm breath on his neck and he almost moaned. His legs shifted apart involuntarily. “Come on, let your big brother help you out.”

“R-really, Dean, I’m fine.” Sam gripped the coffee mug as hard as he could and fought down the urge to push his hips back against Dean’s and  _beg._

“You think I can’t tell, Sam?” Dean’s fingers trailed feather-light down his arm, and Sam shivered at the touch. Dean leaned close to Sam’s ear and whispered into it. “Walking around in those tight boxers with a hard-on like that, it’s like you’re trying to tease me.”

Sam choked on his words. Dean laughed quietly against his neck and pushed his hips forward slightly, nudging the hard bulge in his pants against Sam’s ass. “Come on, Sammy,” he taunted, “if you want something, you gotta tell me. Just tell me what you need, Sammy.”

Sam’s mind raced, his heart thumping against his ribs.  _Dean’s cock, oh god, Dean's_ _ **cock**_ _was grinding against him, Dean was rock hard and had him pinned against the counter and that meant he_ _ **hadn’t**_   _imagined it, Dean had crawled into his bed and fucked him last night and now he wanted to do it again,_ _ **fucking yes**_ _…_

“Dean… ” Sam swallowed and tried to collect himself. “Dean, are… are you asking if… ”

“Shh.” Dean’s whisper made his words die in his throat. “Yes or no, Sammy? Do you want something from me?”

“I… yes.”

“What do you want? You gotta say it, Sam.”

“Dean, I… I can’t… ”

“You can, and I’m gonna make you.” Dean casually reached around him and took the coffee out of his hands, setting it aside, still speaking into his neck _._ “You keep rocking your hips against me, pressing that cute little butt against my dick. You know what you want, Sammy, just tell me.”

“G-god, Dean, I-I want… ” Sam bit his lip and groaned, hands tense against the table.

Dean tsked and pressed a firm hand against his back, bending him over the counter.

Sam looked over his shoulder and panted, hair all over his face. “Dean,  _please_!”

“Look at you, you’re desperate for it. Not enough of my come in your ass yet, baby brother?”

“Yes, Dean, I just… god, Dean, I need it, please!"  _Want that cock, want it pushing into me, want your fingers bruising my hips, Dean, please…_

"Say it, Sammy,” Dean mocked, tracing his fingers around the elastic of Sam’s boxers. “Say it and I’ll make you come so hard for me.”

“ _Deeeeeeean_!” It came out as a sob. Dean’s fingers hooked his boxers and started dragging them down slowly. “Dean, god… Please, want you to fuck me so badly, Dean.” Sam flushed but didn’t turn his face away, still meeting Dean’s eyes. “God, Dean, I want it right now.”

“Shh, I’m gonna give it to you, Sammy.” Dean’s hand ran over his bare ass and squeezed as the boxers came down. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna get it, just needed you to ask for it. Wanted to hear you beg.”

The boxers bunched around Sam’s thighs, and Dean’s turned his full attention to his brother’s sweet, round ass. He ran a finger down the crease and smirked. “Still nice and wet from last night. You’re all ready for me, aren’t you?”

Sam bucked his hips back against Dean’s hand. “Yeah, come on, hurry up… ”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep that ass waiting.” Sam could hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down. “Gonna stuff it nice and full, just like you want.”

“Dean… ” Sam clenched his hands against the counter as the head of Dean’s cock rubbed against his hole. “ _Dean_!”

“God, Sammy, its so tempting to just tease you like this. Just rub against your perfect little hole while you squirm and beg. Hush, don’t give me that look, I’m not gonna do it, baby brother, I’m not that mean. Not right now, anyway.” Dean pushed a little harder and the tip of his cock slid with agonizing slowness into Sam’s ass. Sam panted into the counter, keeping his legs spread so Dean could sink into him nice and easy. He was expecting it to be more difficult, but he was so wet and Dean was pushing in so slowly that it didn’t hurt at all, just made him feel fantastically full.

“Dean… ” Sam groaned when Dean began sliding out and pushing back in again. “God, Dean, can’t believe I didn’t ask for this earlier, feels so damn good… ”

Dean’s laugh was a little breathless as he pushed his way back into Sam with a hard thrust. “Fuck, Sammy, such a perfect little slut.” He worked his fingers into Sam’s hair and pulled his head back, hissing into his ear. “My perfect little slut. My Sammy. Would you like that, Sam? Want me to do this to you all the time?”

“Yes, Dean, god… ” Sam pushed his hips back against Dean, drawing a groan from his brother. Dean was thick and hot inside him and  _stretching_ him like he remembered from last night, it was making his cock twitch against the counter. “Every damn day, Dean. Want you to wake me up with your cock.”

Dean leaned his forehead against Sam’s shoulder and groaned. “Fuck yes, Sam, gonna do it, gonna fuck you whenever you want it, little brother. God, you look so damn good like this, bent over with my cock filling you, god,  _Sam_  - ” Dean’s bit Sam’s shoulder to muffle his groans, not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to sting. Sam shouted into the countertop as Dean pounded into him, arching his back so his brother could get as deep as possible. Dean’s hands were shaking slightly on his hips, and Sam could hear his brother say his name with each thrust, a blissful half-groan-half-breath, hot and desperate and horny against his neck, “ _Sam…_ ”

Dean gave one last, hard thrust and moaned loudly into Sam’s shoulder, and Sam could feel him  _pulsing_ inside as he came. It filled him up even more, hot and wet and sloppy. When Dean had stopped shaking and caught his breath and pulled out of him slowly, he could hear it dripping onto the floor.

“Christ, Sam.” Dean ran one of his hands over Sam’s ass and squeezed the cheek, watching his come drip onto the tiles. “God, you need to look like that all the time.”

“Dean, fuck, don’t fucking stop,” Sam panted. He was right on the edge, he couldn’t take it. “Please, that’s not fucking fair, I need to - ”

“Shh, don’t worry, Sammy, I promised, didn’t I?” Dean gently pulled Sam up off the counter and turned him around. “Not gonna leave you hanging, Sam, not after that.” Dean dropped down to his knees and looked up at Sam with a smirk.

Sam panted and gripped the counter top as Dean’s fingers stroked over his cock. “D-Dean - ”

“Wanted to do this last night, Sammy,” Dean panted, breath hot against him. “Wanted to suck this sweet cock of yours. Bet it tastes just as good as it looks, nice and sweet like the rest of you.”

“Ah, Dean… ” Sam sucked in a frantic breath as Dean’s mouth slid over him slowly. “Dean - that’s - oh god, fuck, Dean!”

“Feels nice, Sammy?” Dean murmured against the head of his cock, stroking the shaft with his hand. “Gonna come for me, Sammy?”

“Yes, yes, god, gonna, gonna come soon, oh god, Dean… ” Sam’s knuckles whitened against the counter as Dean’s mouth slid over him again. “God, Dean, I can’t - ”

And then Dean  _sucked_ on him and Sam came so hard his knees buckled and he had to hold himself up by grabbing onto the counter, shaking and shouting and gasping Dean’s name again and again as his brother held him still and swallowed every drop. Dean waited until Sam could stand on his own before letting Sam’s cock slide out of his mouth and looking up with a pleased smile. Sam panted down at him, flushed and sweaty and out of breath. Dean stood up and claimed his mouth in a kiss, pulling Sam close as he moaned into it.

“Dean,” Sam grunted into the kiss.

Dean pulled back, running a hand over Sam’s cheek. “Yeah?”

Sam bit his lip and ran his hands down to Dean’s hips. “I wanna be awake for it next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here; http://wrenseroticlibrary.tumblr.com/post/46471501954/sleepy-sam-sequel


End file.
